


If I'm Paying I'm in Charge

by Uglysweater



Series: Idk some friday night lights pun [4]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Kissing Booth, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 16:38:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4884049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uglysweater/pseuds/Uglysweater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damen takes the money, Damen wets his lips, Damen kisses. There's nothing interesting or enticing about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I'm Paying I'm in Charge

**Author's Note:**

> its time to play: how much of this is directly inspired by She's The Man?

The past few weeks had been frustrating to say the least. Frustrating on several levels. Nearly every level, if Damen was being honest with himself. 

Frustration level one: the obvious. The end of the regular season was fast approaching and playoffs hung in the balance. Vere Central not only had to win their next two games, but Vask also had to beat Delpha Catholic next week if Vere Central was going to cinch their spot in playoffs. And of course if they weren't in playoffs they couldn't play for State. And if they didn't win State, the team would be disbanded. They had to win. For Damen there was no other option. They had to. It was frustrating and stressful. 

Level two frustration came in the absolute impossibility of proving that the principal of Vere Central had anything to do with providing players for other teams, or sabotaging their own team. It was clearly happening, but no one would listen to a couple of upstart teens. Damen and Laurent ran into roadblock upon roadblock as they progressed further through the football season and further thought their fake-boyfriends-espionage plan. They'd follow a lead only to get shut down or have the trail get covered up. Extremely frustrating, nearly futile. 

The final, arguably worst, and most frustrating level of frustration was Laurent himself. Or, specifically, Damen was frustrated with himself that he felt so damn out of control when around Laurent lately. Damen was frustrated that he liked what Laurent's shampoo smelled like. Something Damen would have dubbed Mountain Top Sunrise or something. It smelled fresh and wild and it lingered with Damen for hours after they spent any time together. Damen was frustrated that he liked the was Laurent's shoulders slumped forward after an all nighter of sneaking through file cabinets at school gathering evidence. He was even more frustrated at how much he liked the way Laurent held himself when he got an idea. Solid and still, with currents churning in his eyes, just beneath the ice. Eager right below the surface. Damen was very very frustrated with all the new language he could think of to describe Laurent's eyes.

And Damen borderline hated how Laurent would lean into his space at times. Meeting by their lockers before practice? A brush into Damen's shoulders. Laurent teasing him? A gentle push against his chest. It was driving him crazy. The most maddening part of it was how as soon as Damen initiated and shrinkage of space between them, or even simply responded to Laurent's movement, Laurent instantly shut down. Walls thrown up with a chill nearly knocking the wind out of Damen each time. 

All of these frustrations culminated in Vere Central's big annual Fall Festival. Why Vere Central would have an even bigger celebration than homecoming barely a month later was lost on Damen. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that by the time the annual celebration rolled around the team already secured a spot in the playoffs. Arrogant overconfidence, thought Damen as he rolled his eyes. 

"Can you hoist that any higher?" Huet asked, snapping Damen out of his thoughts. Damen looked up at where he was pointing. The big banner that said 'Kissing Booth: $5'. 

Damen stood up on the booth and slid the ropes up to the next reachable notch. He tied them up taut so the banner wouldn't sag and hopped down. 

"Who's taking first shift?" Asked Damen, bruising his hands off on his jeans. 

"Rochert I think. Or maybe Jord. I forget, let me check." He pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper from under his jersey and attempted to smooth it out, "Ah, yeah. Rochert. I was right." 

"He's dating someone on the cheerleading team. That'll bring a pretty big crowd to start us off with." Damen commented. 

Huet hummed and shoved the paper back into the waistband of his shorts, "I don't know if I'd be chill with the person I was dating to be running a kissing booth. I don't wanna know they're swapping spit with a bunch of horny desperate teens. Getting numbers slipped to them. Even if it was for charity, you know? How does Laurent feel about you manning the booth later?"

"I don't-" Damen started before Lazar strode over, interrupting. 

“Oh, I don't think it's Laurent with the possessive streak," He said, propping his elbows up on the booth. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Damen. 

"I'm just saying. I see things. You look at him with gross sappy heart eyes. And you give everyone else looking at him dagger murder eyes." 

Damen looked at Lazar like he was an idiot. Lazar grinned, wide and slow, "you like him," he said. He elongated the second word so it sounded like, 'Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike'. 

Damen rolled his eyes, "He's my boyfriend. Of course I like him." 

Damen ignored the was his stomach flipped at his own lie. 

"Boyfriend?" Huet asked, "I heard you guys were just dating." 

Damen was about to answer him when suddenly panic passed quickly over both Huet and Lazar's face. The two of them began picking random things up and putting them down in an effort to look busy and productive. 

Damen turned around to see Jord and Laurent approaching. Laurent had concerned creases on his brow but when he glanced up and met Damen's gaze his eyes brightened considerably. 

Damen, again, ignored any and all stomach flipping. 

"Hey," said Damen. He moved to lean casually against the wood frame holding up the banner above the booth, but it wasn't the most stable of structures. His hand slipped off it and he stumbled sideways. 

Laurent raised one chilly eyebrow, but he smiled softly, "Smooth." 

"Where's Rochert?" Damen asked instead of aknowleding the stomach flip, "He's got first shift." 

"No idea. Probably making out with the cheerleader before they have to pay two bucks for it." Jord told him. 

Lazar asked, "Hey fearless leader, why don't you have a shift?" 

Damen honestly didn't need to hear the answer. It didn't concern him. So he said, "I'm going to go find him." And peeled away from the group. 

He found his teammate and pulled him back to the booth just in time for the festival to start. They were surprisingly crowded for most of the afternoon. Before he knew it, it was Damen's turn to man the booth. 

Its was a little weird. Damen likes kissing as much as the next guy. But kissing was usually an activity enjoyed in private, or at least with the illusion of privacy. At parties and in backseats. Not in broad daylight, not with a booth between bodies, and definitely not for money. But he did it anyway. Damen sort of shut off so he doesn't get weirded out about how many mouths he's touching. It begins to feel like a reflex. Damen takes the money, Damen wets his lips, Damen kisses. There's nothing interesting or enticing about it. 

That is until he saw Laurent duck in and out of line. Damen say his blond head in line a moment before he suddenly stepped out of his spot. He was back three minutes later in the back of the line. When Laurent got close enough to the front of the line that they're eyes met, Lautent frowned and stepped to the side again. This happened twice more before Laurent finally stood before him. 

Damen smiled, "That'll be two dollars please."

"I wasn't aware that this was something I had to pay for." 

Damen noticed him leaning forward slightly, and Damen found himself leaning as well, "Wouldn't it be a little strange for this to be our first kiss, sweetheart?" 

Laurent's brow furrows, "This wouldn't be our first kiss." 

For a moment Damen panics. Maybe he did do something idiotic at Jord's party. His mind raced, trying to figure out what stupid thing he must have done. Then he remembered. The football game. Under the bleachers. When this was all just starting. They shared one brief kiss. Too brief. Damen felt his face heat up. 

In front of him, Laurent coughs lightly. "Besides," he said, "I've heard rumors down the line of gross misuse of saliva on your end." 

It snaps the tension and Damen laughs, "What? Who is slandering my good name." 

"Make out connoisseurs obviously. People who know what they're doing, not amateurs like you." Said Laurent. 

"Oh of course." 

"Excess saliva, disgusting."

"You know what you should do?" Damen said, leaning further over the booth, "Take the spot across from us. Set up your own booth. Charge two dollars for people to get insulted by you." 

Laurent smirked, "My insults are far more valuable than your kisses, darling." 

Damen smiled widely at him, "Yeah, you're right. Obviously more pleasant. Better charge five." 

"Hey," shouted someone behind Laurent in line, "pay or get out of the way. Keep the line moving, blondie." 

"In high demand," Laurent said, still neither paying not getting out of the way, "despite slobbering down everyone's throats like an animal." 

"I'm telling you, that biting booth would be highly lucrative." 

"Oh, I'm sure." Laurent turned with a flourish, depositing a twenty dollar bill in the jar by Damen's elbow. 

Frustrating.

**Author's Note:**

> still actively avoiding anything close to a resolution


End file.
